From AR News


By Kamryn Jaroszewski
July 25, 2006

The following is a commentary.

Four years after saying “I do” to my military man, we’re gearing up for round three. Experts say confusion, anger and denial are all a part of learning about deployments. I’m not sure what stage I’m in – it tends to change by the minute, sometimes.

This one has hit me much harder than the first two.

Deployment number one came five months into our marriage. I knew it would happen before we said our vows, so it was basically a waiting game; I put on my “supportive wife” hat and ran with it. Jared left in September 2002 bound for Bagram Air Base, Afghanistan. I was still in the Army then, and found myself taking more pride in my uniform and what it stood for; after all, my husband was a desert-clad warrior defending the freedoms of the United States. We missed our first birthdays, holidays and anniversary together, but I learned to survive for seven months with my dog, Amigo, prayers from my family and calls from Jared as my sole comforts.

I’d never smiled so big in my life as I did the day he came home. I shouted to the world that my husband was a hero.

We had one year together before he left again.

I was grateful I never really understood what the Quick Reaction Force was until after he came home. Despite being a parachute rigger, Jared trained to be a gunner on a 26-man QRF team tasked with convoy security in Iraq. I knew he would drive around protecting vehicles, but I didn’t know about the secret missions or exactly how accurate sniper rounds could be. Or that he had no protection around his hatch for the first half of his deployment.

Ignorance was bliss.

That deployment was harder on us emotionally. Jared lost his dad on New Year’s Day, and a friend from his unit, Sgt. Rocky Payne, a few months after that.

Rocky’s death is an example of the enemy’s accuracy.

But instead of remembering his year in Iraq with sorrow, we instead felt immense pride; Jared’s QRF team drove 1,197,000 miles with no accidents or fatalities. I’m forever indebted to those 25 men, because there were a few close calls.

When he returned, I was skinny and tanned and ready to jump into starting a family with both feet.

Two months later, we were pregnant. Two months after that, we found out we’d be reporting to Alaska in the middle of the winter for a three-year tour.

All of my careful planning went right out the window. I was now being taken from the home I’d made for the last three years – away from my military family – and dropped into the arctic in my third trimester of pregnancy.

I tried to keep my hormones under control and look at everything as an adventure. Then I found out he was going back to Iraq.

I have to admit I’ve struggled slightly with keeping a positive attitude. It will be nice to pay off our bills, but he’ll miss our daughter’s first words, steps and holidays.

I realize I’m not unlike thousands of other military wives who temporarily become single parents while their husbands deploy again. I also know I don’t always have to like it. At times, I wish we could hide our heads in the sand and pretend we don’t hear Uncle Sam knocking at the door.

In reality, I know I have to set an example for my daughter – even at an early age. Through me, she will learn how to be a strong, independent woman. She will learn it’s okay to miss someone and be afraid for them.

Most importantly, though, she will learn how to be patriotic and believe in the values that make up the country she was so lucky to be born in. So for her, I will put aside my frustration about this deployment and teach her the first lesson of her life: her daddy is a hero.

(Editor’s note: Kamryn Jaroszewski is the editor of Alaska Post at Fort Richardson, Alaska.)